Twisted
by PercyJfan100
Summary: What would happen if Hiccup met Toothless much earlier? What if they became friends then rather than later? How would it effect everything? Will the battle with the Green Death still happen? Will the vikings and dragons still make peace? Find out here.


I was bored stiff, just sitting inside. My father had gone on another mission to find the dragons next, which I didn't get. They never seemed to find it, so why did they keep trying? I wouldn't even know what a dragon looked like, if it weren't for the Dragon Manual. My father had always ordered me to stay inside, even when there were no dragon troubles. All I knew was they somehow made fire appear outside. That's all. Sometimes, however, when my father was gone, and no one was in the house with me, I'd sneak out. I often went to the woods, to explore. And that's exactly what I was planning to do. Grabbing my journal and pencil, I silently opened the back door. Slipping out, I looked around. No people around. No one in sight. Perfect. I ran my fastest, and soon found myself surrounded by trees.

I breathed in the fresh scent of pine, the main tree that grew here. I went to the special clearing I always did, a place that had huge mountains making walls, with lush green grass like a blanket on the ground, and where the sky was always clear and blue, no matter what the weather in the other parts of Berk. It was always peaceful, the only sounds being the chirping of birds and the gentle trickle from the tiny waterfall that made a small pond in the clearing, only about fourteen feet across, and, the nearest I could figure, about twenty feet deep in the very center.

Not very big, but I liked that. I like things that weren't big and bulgy and always seemed to be showing off in one way or another, like my cousin. I love him and all, but he's annoying. He's always hanging out with the other kids our age, Astrid, Fishlegs, and the twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut. None of them really like me. While they'd rather practice fighting with their wooden swords, I'd rather come here and draw. I hardly ever saw them, but I sometimes saw them running by to their next activity.

I settled on the grass, pushing all thoughts of the other children my age out of my mind, and how mean they were most of the time. The only time they were really friendly was when they'd just glare at me as they walked by, and that was when they were _nice_. I thought about what I loved about the small clearing, how it was quiet, peaceful, beautiful and pure, completely free of fighting and war and blood, like other vikings liked. It was the perfect place to come and relax, and calm yourself if you were angry. I loved it.

Today, however, there was something new. A black boulder, about half the height of me, sat at the other side. It wasn't steely gray like most, but instead a dark midnight blue, nearly black. In fact, it may have been black, but I couldn't tell. It was so close to both, it was impossible to tell. And it had a strange pattern, little octagon shapes right next to each other, spreading across it. When I laid my hand on it, it was warm and soft and smooth, not cool and hard. It was tough, sure, but still soft to the touch. And, to confirm my suspicions that it wasn't a rock, when I touched it, it _moved._

Not because I'd nudged it, making it roll slightly, but actually moved. By itself. The top of it expanded out, and it rose, four supporting stands under it, and two parts near the front jerked upward, revealing bright acid green orbs, with black slits in the middle. I stood back, gaping at the creature with my hands held to my mouth, wide eyed.

I was too stunned to say anything. The new rock I'd seen was most definitely _not_ a rock. It was a creature of some sort. And it did not look happy.

But it didn't look angry either. Just frightened and confused. When its gaze zeroes in on me, it backed away slightly, slinking closer to the ground, eyes wide with terror.

But… how could it be scared of _me_? A six year old child called useless more than my real name? I felt bad, it was wrong for me to have scared it, even if it hadn't been on purpose.

"Hey, um, it's ok. I won't hurt you." I spoke softly, my tone gentle. It cocked it's head to the side, asking it's next question silently. Something along the lines of 'You mean it? Please say you do, I really don't want to be killed yet. I'm still a kid.', I think.

"Yeah, I- I won't hurt you, um…" what should I refer to it as? I didn't even know if it was a he or a she. But judging by it's stance and posture, not to mention brave eyes, I assumed it was a he. I offered a smile, not sure what else to do. I've always thought a smile was a symbol of pleasure, of reassurance, of friendliness. Maybe if I showed I was friendly, he wouldn't be so scared.

It tilted it's head the other way, eyes narrowing slightly to form a curious squint. He parted his lips slightly, forming a gummy smile. I looked closer. "Huh? No teeth?" I asked. It was a rhetorical question, but he answered with a questioning look. Maybe he didn't understand human talk.

"Uh, teeth. The things in your mouth, that you chew with?" I tapped mine lightly, and his expression turned understanding. He opened his mouth again, showing that indeed, he had no teeth. "Weird. How do you eat without-" suddenly, there was the sound like a metal blade being unsheathed, and out of his gums shot a row of small, but _incredibly _sharp, pointed teeth. "Teeth." I finished, slightly startled.

They shot back in, then out again. "So you can retract your teeth? Cool!" I exclaimed. A thought passed my mind. "I wonder why. I mean, humans can't, and I don't know of any animals that can, so why can you?" He looked thoughtful, and his face lit up. He retracted them, then turned to a small tree.

He opened his mouth, and… something shot out. It rammed into the tree, exploding on impact, ripping it out of the ground and shattering it. It was a bright purplish blue, leaving little flames on the ground, burning up the remaining bark. He could spit fire! Explosive, _blue _fire, nonetheless! Wait a second, if it was explosive… "So that's why. If you shot your fire with your teeth out, and it explodes as soon as it hits something, you could damage your teeth. That's why they're retractable, isn't it?" I said.

He nodded slightly, then smiled again, obviously glad I'd understood. "Wow. The only animals I know of that can blow fire are dragons. But I've never seen one like you."

He nodded, as if he agreed. "Do you think, if I asked the others about you, they'd know what you are?"

He shook his head quickly and backed up, as if afraid. "You're… scared?"

He nodded, whimpering as he crouched against the ground. "Oh, don't worry! I won't tell anyone about you." He made a face, like 'Promise?'. "I promise. And maybe we can be friends?" I asked hopefully.

He nodded eagerly, as if he'd never had friends before either. A thought struck me. "Hey… where's your family? Won't they be worried you're gone?" His expression saddened. He looked straight up, to the top of the tallest mountain. "You live up there?"

He nodded. "So… you're mom and dad are up there?" he nodded again. "Do you have brothers or sisters?" another nod.

"So do they know you're down here?" he shook his head. "Can you fly yet?" he shook his head no. "You haven't learned yet?" he frowned and shook his head, as if to say 'I'm offended! Of course I have!' He showed me his tail, and I gasped. On the right side, there was a fin, black like the rest of him, but on the left… there was no fin. Just ripped flesh along the edge. "You're fin… what happened?"

He glanced behind him, where some of the trees had been ripped and scratched, a rut on the ground, making a path. The best I could figure, he'd been practice flying, and crashed, injuring his tail. And, knowing some mechanics, he probably couldn't navigate or balance at all without it. Like a machine, he had to have perfect balance, perfect measurements on all parts to be able to work properly. Without his fin… "So you can't fly? At all?" another head shake. He looked so depressed, I felt guilty.

I didn't know what to do about his tail, but I knew that, one day, I would help him get back in the air. He was a kid, like me. Probably only a few years old, so he was a young child, like me. He'd probably only recently learned to fly, so he was still fairly inexperienced when he hurt his tail. The poor dragon. Still, I knew I would help him, somehow. I had to. If he was to be my friend, I had to be one to him. I didn't want to seem ungrateful, so I would help him. One way or another, I would help him.


End file.
